


The Bronze

by porkcutletbowltrash



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cute Viktor, Gen, Limited use of OCs, OCs are background characters only, Possibly will have full Viktuuri later on, Requested, Sick Katsuki Yuuri, because in this fic it is, i didn't plan on this becoming a sick!fic but somehow it did, implied viktuuri, is getting high off russian cough syrup possible???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porkcutletbowltrash/pseuds/porkcutletbowltrash
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki placed third and took home a bronze medal in his first Grand Prix final. It had been an amazing performance and an amazing feeling. The only problem was that he couldn’t really remember what happened on the ice thanks to some really strong cough medicine. Now, skating with Viktor alone on the rink, he lets down his walls. An AU where Yuuri didn’t suck in his first GP. By request of Shiranai Atsune.





	1. Blame It On The Cough Syrup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiranai Atsune](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Shiranai+Atsune).



Yuuri wished he could say that he remembered what it felt like to win a bronze medal in his first Grand Prix final in precise and astonishing clarity, but the truth was that he couldn't. He couldn't remember really what jumps he had landed with effortless grace or what step sequence he used in his free skate. His memory of the sound of the crowd as his program finished or the moment in the Kiss and Cry were very hazy. He remembered his coach, Celestino Cialdini, slapping him roughly on the back in congratulations as his score was announced over the large stadium speakers, but everything else around that moment had been a blur of foggy figures and bright colors.

At first, he hadn't even remembered being awarded the bronze until that night when his roommate and best friend, Phichit Chulanont, a skater from Thailand, practically flattened him in a hug and screeched congratulations into his ear.

"What're you talking about?" He asked as he was squished in his best friend's arms.

"The obvious, Yur!" Phichit was bouncing on his heels like a rogue bouncy ball on a trampoline as he pulled him away and held Yuuri at arm's length, "No offense, Yur but I didn't think you'd actually place on the podium. You were such a wreck and all."

Yuuri blinked at him owlishly, "I placed on the podium?" Had he really?

Phichit's smile grew a little tense in the edges as his eyes scanned over his best friend, "Yes…how could you have forgotten? You placed bronze on your first GP final, Yur. Right under Viktor Nikiforov with gold and Christophe Giacometti with silver. You were close to beating Christophe too from what I heard, but he had you by 10-point something points."

Yuuri blinked and shook his head as he took everything in. Had he won a bronze medal on his first circuit? How could he have forgotten the brilliant moment that had happened mere hours ago? He smiled softly as Phichit continued to look at him with concern.

"Are you feeling alright, Yuuri?" Phichit asked suddenly, looking him up and down with intensifying worry lines.

"Uhm. I'm good. Just tired. It was a long day." In truth, Yuuri wasn't feeling well at all. And he hadn't been for the past couple days they had been in Sochi, Russia. The morning after touching down in Russia for the Grand Prix, Yuuri had woken up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat, but pushing it off as allergies, he continued on throughout the day with practice and work outs that Celestino had thrown at him in preparation for the final that was being held in a few days. But as the day went on, Yuuri was starting to feel colder and colder in the rink and at the gym and he had somehow developed a slight cough.

Halfway through the second night in a Russian hotel, Yuuri had finally had enough and wandered down to the convince store across the street in the early hours of the morning. He had managed to find some cold and flu medicine amongst the aisles (at least from what he could tell since he didn't speak any Russian), some Ibuprofen and a bag of throat lozenges. Those had been his saving grace for the past few days, keeping him well enough to get through practice, his short program and to be able to sleep soundly at night through the coughing and the twinges of his aching body.

Then last night had come and Yuuri's temperature seemed to spike higher and his head had been pounding. Celestino had immediately suggested that Yuuri see a doctor, but Yuuri wasn't stupid. Once a doctor got involved, his chances of competing, let alone possibly getting to the podium, would be extremely slight. He did not come all this way to forfeit. So, with the promise and taking the next morning easier than usual and taking a strong dose of ibuprofen before practice, Yuuri had kept his coach from completely destroying his opportunity to compete in the GP finals at all.

By the time Yuuri was up next for his free skate program, he had downed four ibuprofen and had the strongest dose of the Russian cough syrup he had picked up at the store and to be honest, Yuuri felt better than he had ever felt before. His head and body weren't aching. He wasn't freezing from his fever. He felt like he was on a cloud.

"I don't believe you Yur. You look like you're gonna pass out." Phichit mumbled as he pushed his friend down onto the hotel bed.

"Phich, I'm alright. I'm just going to head to bed is all." Yuuri smiled softly at his friend and tried to look more alert than he felt.

His best friend eyed him, "You're not coming out to dinner with the rest of us to celebrate? There'll be rice." Phichit knew Yuuri's weakness and that weakness was rice. Since moving and training in the United States, Yuuri had been disappointed in the lack of rice being served with things. The Americans preferred bread and potatoes it seemed. Or at least, that's what Celestino and his family had with everything. Normally, Phichit just had to mention the 'r' word and Yuuri was automatically in, but in that moment the idea of food made his stomach churn.

As he covered his mouth softly to keep himself from gagging, he looked up at his best friend who was looking at him with concern, "I'll tell them that you were exhausted. But you better take some medicine, Yur. Do you have any on hand or— "

"Backpack." Yuuri mumbled through his hand and pointed towards the backpack on the floor that held all his training gear, "Front pocket."

o.O.o

The next day passed in the haze of cough syrup, pills, and sleep. Yuuri could briefly remember Phichit and Celestino coming to check on him periodically as he slept, but other than that, he had been left to his own devices all alone in his hotel room. After the free skate program, Yuuri's sickness seemed to be getting better, even though he had stayed incapacitated for most of the following day. While he had been dozing in bed, during one of his brief periods of alertness, he had managed to find the footage from his free skate program where he placed bronze.

Yuuri had landed almost every jump in his routine with ease, his step sequence was exact and pristine. His spins were perfectly performed. He was smiling and looked as care free as ever. That was the worrisome part of it all. Yuuri was not a calm being, not with his anxiety. Competition, even the most minor competitive events, had given Yuuri extreme bouts of nervousness, ever since he was a child. He was simply a nervous performer.

It was then that something had hit him.

The Yuuri on the screen had lost all his inhibitions as he glided and twirled across the ice like a ballerina. The Yuuri watching it on his phone knew that carefree Yuuri only existed in two situations: when he was skating alone or when Yuuri was on the verge, if not already, drunk off his ass.

"That's why I can't remember…" He mumbled to himself in Japanese as he tossed his phone softly back onto the side table next to the bed, "No wonder I slept so well with the meds. That cough syrup…" He sighed and ran a hand over his face as he gave a weak cough.

His first time he had competed on the senior level at his very first Grand Prix, which he placed bronze in, he had been a little more than tipsy off of Russian cough medicine. With a look over at the side table at the offending product, he frowned and mumbled to it, "I hate that I love you right now."

While the cough syrup had stolen his precious, conscious thoughts from his big moment on the ice two days earlier, it had also helped Yuuri feel better enough to go to the GPF annual banquet that night. Celestino and Phichit had covered for him enough as is and he knew there was no way around the posing threat of having to face the other skaters that had won their medals or didn't place on the podium while sober, while he had been out of it. That morning, he had watched his routines over and over again, committing even the slightest deviations to memory in case it came up in conversation. He had already been laughed at by his best friend when he had confessed the truth of what had happened on the ice and he wasn't keen on being laughed at by the rest of the skating community that would be attending. He was nervous enough as is and not having many friends in the skating world hadn't been a comfort.

It's not that Yuuri was exclusive about who he talked to in the skating community, it was quite the opposite actually, but Yuuri just didn't make friends easily. Between him being extremely shy most of the time and his abundance of awkwardness, he had learned to blend in with the scenery at events like these. He would stay close to his parents and Celestino or Phitchit. He would talk quietly to those he knew and, if approached, would listen to the others in the group talk while he just made the appropriate response with his body language.

The most nerve wracking part of the whole thing though was that he was going to be there.

He had also qualified for the Grand Prix finals, placing first in his prelims in Canada and Paris and then bringing it home with his third gold of the GP here in Russia.

There was a possibility that Yuuri would run into his figure skating idol at tonight's banquet and he had no idea what to do – his brain panicking about the possibility, while his heart screamed out in happiness. He was caught between a rock and a huge fanboy moment, neither of which he was comfortable facing in public.

Yuuri had seen Viktor skate for the first time when he was twelve while he, Yuuko and Takaeshi were watching the Junior Grand Prix finals on the TV in the Ice Castle locker room. It was Viktor Nikiforov's first GP at the age of 16 and to Yuuri, he was one of the most beautifully perfect skaters he had ever seen. Watching the long silver haired Viktor skate was like watching water dance – fluid, graceful and strung together with program difficulty and passionate emotions. As the years went on, Viktor never ceased to surprise Yuuri with his intricate programs and exquisite story telling. Every time Viktor skated, Yuuri had been in awe – it felt like Viktor had pushed his emotions through the TV screen and into Yuuri's soul.

Stop it, he reminded himself, chances are he's not going to even give you the time of day anyways. It's not like you beat him. Just relax. Just focus on trying to piece together a plausible story if people ask you about placing bronze.

And with a great deep breath, Yuuri stood and allowed him to take another dose of meds before leaving his hotel room.

o.O.o

Things at the banquet were not going quite as he had planned. He had foreseen the other skaters coming to congratulate him on his medal and for them to drill him on the aspects of his program, but he hadn't been prepared to be hounded by a number of coaches from all over the world as well, wanting him to come train with them.

"You have amazing potential, Katsuki Yuuri." He didn't know who this coach was, but he was certain he was from America or Canada. He had a western accent for sure, "I could help you round out your skills, you could even finish school while training with us."

"I – um," Yuuri blushed and looked away, "I'll have to think about it…"

The coach winked and smiled at him before handing Yuuri a business card, "Call me and I'll fly you over to Seattle." Yuuri watched as the coach strode away, leaving him with another business card to add to the pile. He wasn't sure why they had all suddenly started pouncing on him. He had Celestino and was doing okay in practice and he had made it to the Grand Prix without any complications.

If they only knew what happened, he thought.

He was looking around when he saw a familiar woman turn to look at him. They had made eye contact and she smiled before sauntering over. Yuuri groaned softly to himself as his head started pounding. He wanted to go back to his room and sleep. He was tired of being cornered by coaches and skaters a like. He missed home. He even missed Detroit.

He turned away slowly from the advancing coach and started to walk towards where Celestino was talking to one of Yuuri's rink mates who competed in the Junior finals. I'll just tell him I'm not feeling well, which it true, and ask to go back to my room, Yuuri had chided himself. He really didn't want to deal with the approaching woman either. He knew that Mira Ashbey wasn't someone who took 'no' or 'I need to think about it' for an answer. She trained her students in the heart of Paris and was one of the strictest skating coaches in the book. As soon as she got her hands on Yuuri, he would've been signed into a few years training with her and would be flying to Paris in the morning.

When Celestino saw him, he waved over and Yuuri tried to give a soft smile back.

"There's my bronze medalist." Celestino slapped him on the back and gave a hearty laugh. Yuuri smiled softly, but the noise was making his head pound. He wanted to leave.

"Hey, um, Celestino. Uh, I'm not feeling too well, do you think people would be upset if I went back to my room to rest?" he asked softly as he looked up at the tall man. Yuuri was tiny compared to most people, but he was also tiny compared to the figure skaters that were under Celestino's regime. At first, most of the people had found it either endearing or perfect teasing material, but now they had gotten so used to leaning against Yuuri lazily, their arm propped atop Yuuri's unruly dark hair, that it wasn't even funny anymore.

Celestino's smile turned into one of mild annoyance, "Yuuri, can't you stay for another fifteen minutes? They'll be serving dinner in a bit. Maybe the food will help."

Yuuri bit his lip, "I'm feeling a bit queasy." He was partially lying about this. He wasn't feeling great and his stomach was cramping, but he didn't feel like vomiting at the moment.

His rink mate that had initially been talking to Celestino, James Noble, turned and smiled, "They have a balcony over there Yuuri. Maybe some fresh air will help?"

Yuuri patted James' shoulder and nodded, "I guess I can try." And then his sidled off towards the French doors that were cracked open on the side of the room and glanced over his shoulder to see Celestino blocking his exit from Mira Ashbey, the French coach from hell. At least he would be free from everyone for a while standing out on the balcony and he'd be able to get some fresh air. Maybe that would calm him down some.

o.O.o

Russia was beautiful. The Grand Prix had been held in Sochi and it was the first time Yuuri had ever seen the beautiful country. Where Hatsetsu, Yuuri's hometown, had been predominantly carved into the side of beautiful granite rock forms, Sochi was like a lily pad, surrounded by beautiful ocean. Hatsetsu had also been a village on the ocean, but it was a peaceful kind of beauty compared to Sochi's elegance. He missed views like this when he was living and training in Detroit, which was covered in buildings and even more people – he missed being able to look out and see the forestry and swirling waters of the ocean, undisturbed.

Yuuri took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together in the chilly Sochi air. While it was a little cold out for Yuuri's tastes, the fresh air and alone time was doing Yuuri some good like James had suggested. He could relax for a few minutes without being on the edge constantly. He didn't need to put up a show for a few minutes.

"It's very beautiful, yes?" Yuuri jumped and whipped his head around to where the voice had come from. His heart just about stopped as he eyed the short silver hair and the taller stature that leaned against the balcony railing like Yuuri, taking in the night time view of Sochi, Russia.

"Uhm…" Yuuri felt his throat choke on the words and blushed deeply before looking back out at the dark sky. Viktor Nikiforov was standing right next to him.

He could feel Viktor's eyes on him as he looked out at the ocean, "I love looking at the ocean when I visit Sochi. I feel at home when I hear the seagulls and the waves, even though I'm not in Saint Petersburg.

Yuuri nodded softly, not knowing what to say to Viktor, but feeling the same feelings as him. He was still choking on his words and he was starting to feel nauseous. He couldn't tell if it was his cold acting up or his inner fanboy screaming to be let out.

He felt Viktor nudge his elbow with his own, "Hey, you're Yuuri Katsuki right? You placed bronze this year?"

Yuuri nodded, "Uhm…that's right. I placed bronze."

Viktor smiled sweetly, "I didn't get to see much of your free program, but I caught the tail end of it. It was very beautiful. Did you choreograph it yourself?"

Yuuri blushed, "Well, no. My coach, Celestino and his wife did."

Viktor nodded, "That's impressive. You must've found your own story within the routine. You looked like you were skating for the hell of it, instead of for a score. It was extremely impressive, Katsuki."

"Call me Yuuri. Please." It came out of Yuuri's mouth before he could stop it. Blushing he looked down at the streets below, watching as cars and people looked like ants from this high up.

Viktor chuckled, "Yuuri it is. I'm Viktor Nikiforov. From Russia."

"I know who you are. You're one of the most talented skaters in the senior division." Yuuri smiled to himself, "You're a legend."

"I would suppose I am by this point." Viktor mused softly with a smile, "This is your first time in the Grand Prix finals, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is. I never qualified the past few years." Yuuri blushed deeper, "I wasn't good enough in the prelims."

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and gazed from his peripherals to see Viktor smiling at him, "You placed bronze, Yuuri and that takes talent. Why didn't you qualify the past couple years?"

Yuuri's face had gone slack, Viktor was just as beautiful in person as he was on the ice, his silver hair was glowing in the city lights, his cheeks angular and yet soft. His smile was infectious as ever, "Well, uhm, I didn't land a lot of my jumps cleanly. I worked hard to perfect my triple axel these past few years."

"You had almost perfect jumps in the competition." Viktor said and then let out a chuckle, "It's almost hard to believe."

Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek. If only it was that ridiculous.

"I guess." Yuuri finally sighed.

"So," Viktor smiled out at the view, "what brought you out here? Tired of the party?"

Yuuri nodded, "I guess you could say that. I needed some fresh air."

"Me too. It's hot in there and the alcohol was weak." Yuuri turned to look at the side of Viktor's face and that's when he noticed the champagne glass in Viktor's hand that was about a fourth of the way full, "When they had Grey Goose martini's last year, it was so much better. A lot more fun. It helped loosen everyone up after such a close season."

Yuuri smiled, he had remembered watching the Grand Prix on TV while sulking in his apartment by himself. The season had been really close with Christophe Giacometti had just barely surpassed the South African skater, Mamello Fourie, by a matter of a few points. It had been Mamello's last season before a forced retirement due to an injury that led to chronic pain and his last skate had given him a bronze medal to take home.

Yuuri had won a bronze too this season and he slowly started feeling guilt roll inside him. Mamello Fourie had been an amazing skater, placing more than a few golds before Viktor had entered into the Senior division at the age of sixteen. After Viktor came on the scene, the twenty-nine-year-old skater had placed multiple silvers and then a few bronze medals before his last run. Only Yuuri and the universe knew how wrong this had been in this moment. Yuuri wasn't an amazing skater, he was mediocre at best in his opinion and he had taken the place on the podium of a former skating legend.

And he only did it because he wasn't fully there on that ice.

"W-What happened?" Yuuri asked as he gnawed on his lip, trying to calm the rolling storm inside of him.

"Well, let's just say that a lot of people had too much to drink and people started getting naked. Some of the skaters had started a drunken version of truth or dare, but the coaches didn't allow it for long and shut it down pretty quick." Viktor chuckled softly at the memory and Yuuri couldn't help but smile. He was an awful drunk and he could see himself fitting perfectly into the scene, "We should probably get back inside, yeah?"

Yuuri sighed and nodded, "Yeah. We should."

o.O.o

They had both returned to the party and had gone off on their separate ways. Yuuri was back on his own in the feeding frenzy of shark like coaches and skaters that normally didn't give him the time of day. While the fresh air had been a help to his queasiness, it didn't seem to help with his head that was still pounding behind his eyes and leaving an ache in his neck. Only a couple more hours and then you can go back to bed, he encouraged himself as he made his way over to the refreshments table to grab a glass of water before he would head over to the corner and try to hide from the constant activity of the banquet. He didn't know if he was allowed to drink with the medicines that were flowing through his system at this time, but he didn't want to risk his headache getting worse either so he stuck with something that was good for him overall.

Water in hand, he made himself comfortable in the corner, sipping on the ice water slowly, not wanting to upset his stomach once again. When stepping back from the scene of the banquet, it was actually quite funny to watch. There were people who were socializing normally and civilly, others were borderline drunk, some were being cornered by coaches. There was even a couple drunkenly making out at a table. It was like being at a college house party in some ways…. a really ritzy house party, where everyone was dressed to the nines and not in their typical jeans and t-shirts or party dresses.

"Bonjour, Misuser Katsuki." He felt his blood run cold at the sound of the French accented feminine voice drifted over to him. He really didn't want to face Mira Ashbey at this point. She was gliding over to him in her tight cocktail dress and very high heels, her dark hair bouncing around her equally dark skin. If Yuuri wasn't terrified of her, he would probably be appreciative of her beauty. Wide eyed, Yuuri started looking for an escape. There had to be some place to go, but then he remembered that he was backed into a corner. A literal and figurative corner. There was nowhere to run.

"Meet me down stairs in fifteen minutes with your training gear." Yuuri jumped as the heavily accented Russian voice whispered to him. He blinked in shock as he felt Viktor pat him softly on the shoulder before walking towards in oncoming French coach, "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Ashbey. It's been a long time, yes?"

"Ah, yes, Viktor. A very long time. Congratulations on the gold once again. Have you considered my proposal from last season?" Viktor had met her head on and was steering her in the opposite direction from where Yuuri was huddled. He watched in awe as Viktor guided Mademoiselle Ashbey the other way only turning once to give Yuuri smile and a soft wink.

Seeing his chance to escape, Yuuri walked out the doors of the banquet hall and then ran back to his room.

o.O.o

To Be Continued…


	2. Just Fooling Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is finally done! Woo! Sorry about the later update. I was planning on uploading a couple weeks back but I just started a new job so I've been working odd shifts. Not as much fun as it sounds. Also, my entire pay check goes to paying for car insurance which is a little disheartening since I just saw this super cute Yuri on Ice journal. :( Anyways, there is going to be a chapter three! And that just might be the last chapter. I dunno yet. There might possibly be a sequel at this point, but once again, no guarantees. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!!

Chapter Two

Yuuri held his backpack over his shoulder and looked around anxiously for who he was supposed to be meeting. He had been stuck in between hiding in his hotel room (he really just wanted to go back to bed) and meeting Viktor in the lobby. His internal conflict didn't last long however and the Yuuri's inner fanboy came out and nothing was going to stop him from meeting his idol.

He tapped his foot nervously and looked around trying to spot the silver haired Russian in the crowd of busy hotel staff and guests. Pulling his hoodie closer around him, He stayed back in the corner of the room, blending into the background as he waited. He didn't know what would transpire in the next few hours, but he was hoping that he would get to watch Viktor glide across the ice. It'd be a private moment of just the two of them – no audience, no judges, no coaches – just Viktor and him. He'd get to see the beauty of the routines Viktor choreographed in its rawest form. That is, if they actually went to the rink and not to the ballet studio or gym

"Ready to go?" A soft Russian accent drifted into his ear as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Yuuri jumped for the second time that night and whipped his head to the side to see Viktor next to him, dressed in a pair of form fitting sweat pants and a soft grey jacket, "You're rather jumpy today? You alright?"

Yuuri blushed and fumbled with his words, "Uhm, uh, yeah. I'm fine. Just s-surprised me is all."

Viktor smiled widely, "Let's go then. I was getting restless at the banquet anyways. The rink isn't that far away, how about we walk over and burn off some steam? It should be empty except for the two of us since everyone else is still in the reception hall. How's that sound?"

Yuuri nodded and blushed, "O-okay", he blushed deeper when his voice cracked slightly in the middle, but it was soon forgotten as Viktor smiled once more and began pulling him out into the chilly winter air of Sochi.

o.O.o

Yuuri walked out of the locker room to a sight he never in a million years he thought he would see. Viktor was on the ice in the midst of a spread eagle as he danced to inaudible music. He was flowing around the ice, lost in his own world of interpretive story telling. Yuuri stayed silent and watched from the rink side as Viktor landed a perfect quad toe loop. Smiling, Yuuri allowed himself to also get lost in Viktor's dance. It was the same sense of serenity and admiration that Yuuri had experienced years ago when he watched 16-year-old Viktor debut on TV. He was captivated by the flow of Viktor's arms and the strong push of his legs as he slid around the slick ice.

He never fails to surprise me. Ever since I first saw his skating, it's been a never-ending chain of surprises.

"Yuuri?" A slender finger softly caressed his cheek and he blinked up at the skater on the other side of the wall. He had been so lost in Viktor's performance that Yuuri even forgot where he was. His mind was solely set on watching Viktor's grace. He hadn't even realized that Viktor had slid up to the side of the rink where Yuuri was watching.

"That was beautiful Viktor. Choreography for next season?" he stumbled over his words and tried to hide his blushing cheeks.

Viktor chuckled softly and put a hand on top of Yuuri's ruffled black hair, "Possibly. I was just sort of doing what I wanted."

"Really?" Yuuri blinked up at him, "That was you just fooling around?"

"Yes." Viktor ruffled his hair and leant against the wall, "Don't you ever just mess around with jumps and step sequences ever? Just do whatever feels right and see where it takes you?"

"Well…" Yuuri usually only did it during practice to warm up. He hadn't ever thought about doing it simply to do it. The only other time was when he was stressed and then he just let his body take over and ease the pressure off his mind, "I guess. Not in the same way you do, anyways."

"You should try it sometime. It's quite fun." Viktor chuckled once more and skated to the exit off the ice, putting on his skate guards, "Will you perform your free program for me, since I never got to see it fully? I want to see the routine that took the bronze."

Yuuri felt his insides clench as sweat beaded his forehead, "Uhm, well…I dunno. I'm not really all that prepared and I mean, it won't be as good as anything you do or anything, plus, I don't have my music and so that'd be a bit difficult." His rambling came to an end when Viktor walked over, his skate guards clinking softly as he moved, and placed his hands on Yuuri's shoulders.

"I brought some music. You skated to Yiruma's If I Could See You Again, right?" Viktor asked. When Yuuri nodded, Viktor smiled, "I was positive I had heard that song before." He walked back to where his own backpack sat not that far away and pulled out a small portable speaker and his phone. Viktor came back and set the speaker on the edge of the wall and began to search for the right music piece. When Yiruma's soft sonata started playing, Yuuri felt his cheeks go warm. Viktor wanted to see him skate. He wanted to see the program that had brought Japan the bronze medal – right here, right now.

Yuuri felt his stomach drop as anxiety started to fill him. Viktor wanted to watch him skate and Viktor would know what a shit skater Yuuri actually was. It didn't help that his head was already starting to ache with a slow dull throb. He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a few seconds before he felt Viktor's hand on the top of his head once more.

"Please, Yurka?" The nickname that rolled of Viktor's tongue in his heavy Russian accent was absolute bliss to Yuuri's ears. Yurka. He wasn't very aware of how Russian nicknames worked, but it sounded beautiful in his voice.

Yuuri bit his lip and opened his eyes, walking towards the entrance to the ice, before taking off his skate guards and sliding onto the ice. He heard Viktor let out a soft hum and as he took his place the soft piano notes of If I Could See You Again began to drift into the vastness of the rink. He danced on the ice the same way that Celestino had shown him, letting go with the motions. His nerves were still on over drive and beginning to show as his first jump, a double loop, came up. He went from a spiral into the jump and as he landed, he wobbled, but quickly caught his footing. The music was still softly playing in the vicinity and he tried to match his breathing to the down beat. He needed to calm down before he made a fool of himself.

His brain wasn't listening to him however and as he went in for his triple axel, he felt his feet slip from beneath him and he landed on the ice in a tangled heap of limbs. He breathed hard as the dull ache from his fall hit him and he pushed himself back to his feet quickly. The weight of Viktor's eyes on him was becoming heavier as he went back into the motions of the routine. Thankfully, next was the step sequence he himself had learned to love and he found it almost relaxing as his feet glided across the ice.

It was nearing the end of the song and Yuuri went into a dizzying combination spin, the blur of colors he saw as he spun was rather dizzying and was making his stomach lurch. He closed his eyes and held his breath as he pulled into a one-handed Biellmann spin. He stopped with the music and stood frozen in the center of the ice, breathing hard. He was normally known for his insane amount of stamina, but the spin had set his stomach into a roll of waves and his head was pulsating.

Clapping filled the sound of the room and Yuuri opened his eyes as Viktor glided to him on the ice.

"It was a beautiful program." He said as he came to a stop in front of Yuuri, "I thought you perfected that triple axel though. You nailed all those jumps in competition."

Yuuri wrapped an arm around his stomach anxiously and looked down at the ice, "Uhm, well, I'm just nervous, I guess."

Viktor hummed and glided around him in a slow circle, "Will you try that triple axel again? Maybe it was the music and you were just following the routine. You were too caught up in the motions to focus on the foot work."

Yuuri watched Viktor glide off towards the wall and waved him on. He wants me to try the triple axel again.

Yuuri sighed softly but started gliding around, getting in stride with the jump before he vaulted himself into the air. He spun three times and then landed on the ice face first. He rolled onto his back and put his hands on his face. He heard Viktor skating over to him, but he quickly pulled himself to his feet.

"Hmmm." Viktor hummed as he came once again to a stop in front of Yuuri, "What're you so tense about?"

With red cheeks, Yuuri looked away, "N-Nothing."

They were both silent for a moment and then Viktor spoke, "You know, I think I'm going to run and get a snack. Want something?"

The thought of food made Yuuri even more nauseous, "I'll pass."

"Alright," Viktor gave him a winning smile once more and skated off the ice. He put on his skate guards and then he was off towards the locker room.

Now that Viktor was gone, even if it was for a few moments, Yuuri could try to calm himself. He slid around the ice and went into a perfect spread eagle as he focused on trying to breathe. He needed to steady his racing heard and his rocking stomach. He'd already embarrassed himself in front of a figure skating legend, he didn't need to embarrass himself even more by puking on the ice as well. He swirled into a perfect step sequence as he tried to shut his anxiety away. He had always gone to the rink when he was home in Hasetsu to calm down. The feel of the ice under his feet and the cool temperature of the ice was comforting to him.

This time was no exception. He could feel the anxiety ebbing away as he started towards a jump in the empty space of the rink – it was just him and the ice. He went into a triple axel and landed on his feet with surprising grace. He smiled to himself and went in for a triple flip and double loop combination, landing that too with ease. He felt his body easing as he nerves started dissipating.

As he started into compulsory figures, a Russian accent drifted across the room to him, "You're beautiful, Yurka." Yuuri slid to a stop and eyed Viktor who was leaning against the wall, a bottle of water in his hands.

Yuuri didn't think his cheeks could go redder, "T-thank you."

Viktor smiled and beckoned him over, "You're very talented Yuuri. I see why you placed third."

Yuuri came to a stop and leant back against the wall, trying to hide his flushed cheeks, "I-I dunno about that. I was just skating around."

"Fooling around on the ice does that to you. It relaxes you." Viktor's observation wasn't incorrect, "Your problem seems to be that you lack self-confidence."

Yuuri could hear the embarrassment in his own voice, "Yeah. I just get so nervous and then I panic and I guess I lose my body to my anxiety…"

He couldn't believe he had just admitted one of his own fatal flaws to Viktor. He knew that people noticed his anxiety and all but, he never expected to outright acknowledge it, let alone admit it to one of the world's most prominent and talented male figure skaters. He was expecting Viktor to laugh at him. He expected that Viktor would call him a variety of insults that would be meant to be playful, but that Yuuri would take to heart later that night in his hotel room. What he didn't expect was what happened in reality.

Viktor was quite for a moment and Yuuri shut his eyes trying to control his rapid heartbeat. He had scared off his idol. But then, Viktor's arms wrapped around him from behind in a soft hug. Yuuri let out a squeak of surprise but quickly went silent as Viktor murmured to him, "Yuuri, I'm so proud of you. That's amazing that you face that every time you perform. I know it's not easy to do. Mila use to get that way when we were younger. Even with your nervousness, Yurka, you placed third. You did such a good job." Yuuri's eyes were as wide as saucers and his cheeks were a soft pink in a blush as Viktor's heavy accented tone flowed around him. Viktor was…reassuring him. He could sense Yuuri's embarrassment and was trying to ease the worry some. Even though they had just properly met only a few hours ago, it was almost as if Viktor had known Yuuri for years and had genuinely cared about him.

Viktor hummed softly in his ear and gave one final squeeze before letting go and carding his fingers through Yuuri dark hair, "How about we just mess around on the ice together? We can just skate for fun."

Yuuri smiled for the first time all night and nodded, "Okay." He slid away from the wall and started gliding across the ice as Viktor removed his skate guards and soon joined him. It was as if the pain behind Yuuri's eyes had disappeared and his stomach's internal rolling came to a stop for that moment as he and Viktor just skated lazily around each other. They were speaking much, but they were in a comfortable silence. Yuuri watched as Viktor came into stride for a jump and was impressed, just like every time he had seen Viktor perform when he landed a quad flip.

"That was really good." He called over as he went into a step sequence on the other side of the rink. He had been a little nervous to try another jump.

"Your step sequence is perfect Yurka!" He could feel Viktor watching him as he slid around the ice, "Your stamina is pretty good."

"I'm known for my stamina in Detroit when I train. I'm usually the last one at the rink every night. They say it's because I could just keep going and going, but the truth is, I plan my training around school, so I have to work odd hours."

"You go to college?" Viktor asked surprised, "What do you study?"

Yuuri gave a nervous chuckle, "I do. Wayne State University. One of the best universities in Michigan. I'm studying Sports Medicine. I'll be able to graduate by the end of the year too."

"That must be difficult to schedule training around. How do you do it all?"

Yuuri smiled and slowly went into skating in lazy circles, "Train during the day, go to school at night. I take minimum credits so I can fit everything in. I tried taking 18 credits of classes one semester and it didn't end well, so after that Celestino made me stick to 12 credits."

Viktor chuckled, "I'm glad it's going well. Have you ever tried one of those step sequences into a jump?"

Yuuri frowned slightly in thought, "Possibly. I don't really remember if I have though. Why?"

"I bet you could pull it off. I've tried before but I just can't get the power behind the jump, so I end up only doing singles."

Yuuri could sense that Viktor was hoping that he would try it. He could feel the anticipation building in the air, which made him a little nervous. His body and mind were telling him no, but his heart was screaming at him to try. He could impress Viktor. Maybe Viktor would remember him then after they parted ways after their impromptu skating session. He really wished he had some of that damned cough syrup with him now to take the edge off of his anxiety, but whether it was here or not, he was determined to try Viktor's suggestion.

He smiled softly and started in stride for his step sequence. He twirled beautifully along the ice and he could feel his hair being swept up in the air as he moved. He started getting ready for the jump. He turned his body so he would land facing Viktor who was watching awestruck in the center of the ice. Yuuri pushed himself into the air and felt him go into a triple axel, before landing soundly on the ice. He heard Viktor give a whoop, but he wasn't done yet. He tossed himself once more into the air. He was going for a combination jump. When he fell out of his double toe loop, he opened his hips and landed with beautiful grace.

"That was perfect Yurka!" He chuckled softly and felt his heart thudding in his chest as he slowed to a stop next to Viktor.

He panted softly, but he managed to stay upright, "Thank you."

"What made you decided to go into a combo jump?"

Yuuri blushed and lied, "I dunno. Just went with the motions."

Viktor smiled and patted Yuuri's head, "Just fooling around then?"

"Just fooling around."

The world suddenly tilted around Yuuri and he felt the pain in his head and his rolling stomach return to him. He was slowly becoming dizzy as the pain washed over him. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he tried to take some deep breaths to right the world.

"Yurka?" He could hear Viktor's voice softly in the background. He opened his eyes softly, but he couldn't seem to focus on Viktor's face, "Yuuri?"

He wrapped his arms around his stomach and hunched forwards as he tried to get the spinning to stop. If the world would just stop moving around him, he'd be able to carry on.

"Yuuri? Are you alright?" He ignored Viktor's voice as he tried to keep his balance. He didn't last for long, however, because soon he was laying on the ice, with his eyes shut. The world was slowing down as he lay in this position. He could possibly try to focus on his surroundings if he was careful.

A cool hand brushed his bangs off his sweaty face and he opened his eyes to see Viktor crouching beside him.

"Are you still dizzy?" Viktor asked trying to keep the panic out of his voice, "You've been in and out for the past few minutes and I thought I caught you as you started to fall over. I don't think you hit your head or anything." Viktor was rambling and as he looked at the Japanese man, Yuuri finally looked into Viktor's eyes. They were the color of cerulean blue, with soft flecks of gold floating around in them – like watching fall leaves floating on the most beautiful of ponds. Of course, Yuuri had known Viktor had blue eyes, but he had never seen this much detail from her various posters at home. He hadn't seen how truly soft the ridges of his cheeks were and how prominent his eyes were on his face. They were beautiful.

Yuuri blinked slowly up at Viktor who was looking down at him with great concern, "I think I'm okay."

He made to stand up but was pushed down softly by Viktor, "J-Just lay here for another minute. Make sure you aren't going to pass out again." Yuuri noticed that Viktor worried his lip between his teeth as his eyes flicked all over the 24-year-old. It must've been a nervous habit of Viktor's, one that he hadn't seen before.

Viktor watched him carefully for another minute before helping Yuuri slowly get to his feet. The world wasn't spinning anymore, but still, Viktor had Yuuri wrap an arm around his neck for support as he pushed them off the ice. Yuuri had been adamant that he was fine, but Viktor wasn't listening to him.

Yuuri was blushing madly, "I'm fine Viktor, really."

"Passing out on the ice isn't fine Yuuri."

"I only passed out for a few seconds. I was just tired."

Viktor hummed and helped Yuuri slide on skate guards before pulling on his own, "Then lets rest for a few minutes. I want to make sure you didn't smack your head when you fell."

Yuuri sighed but allowed Viktor to push him down onto a bench near the edge of the rink.

He watched as Viktor grabbed his phone off the side of the wall and turned on his flashlight, "Let me see your eyes." He asked softly, crouching down in front of him as he pushed Yuuri's chin up softly. Chocolate brown met cerulean blue as Viktor checked his pupils. Even though his head was splitting his head in two, Yuuri couldn't help but notice once more how strikingly beautiful Viktor was, even when he was worried.

"Your pupils are dilating fine, so it doesn't look like you have head trauma or anything." Viktor turned the light off on his phone and put a hand on the back of Yuuri's head, "I don't feel any bumps yet." Viktor's slender fingers trailed through Yuuri's soft hair and finally came to rest near his temple.

Yuuri blushed softly and looked down, "I'm sorry."

Viktor's voice was gentle like he was speaking to a small child, "For what Yurka?"

"I'm sorry for bothering you."

Viktor chuckled softly, "What do you mean?"

"For worrying you," Yuuri mumbled softly.

Viktor ran his fingers once more through the soft tendrils of Yuuri's hair, "Don't be sorry, Yuuri. It's alright." Yuuri gulped softly but leaned into Viktor's soft touch. His fingers sure were cool on his warm skin. Viktor smiled softly at him and swiped his hand across Yuuri's forehead.

Viktor's smile turned into a soft frown, "You're burning up."

To Be Continued…


	3. Please Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yuuri? I'm sorry for laughing. It was just funny to me is all. Why don't you eat some soup and then you can get some rest? How's that sound? I can leave you alone if you want…"
> 
> "No!" Yuuri was surprised by the plea that left his lips as his eyes lifted to meet Viktor's sky blue ones, "C-Can you–?"
> 
> Viktor smiled, "Don't worry about it. You can change out of your training clothes while I heat up some soup." And with a brush through Yuuri's soft hair, Viktor pushed himself to his feet and slid over towards the small cooking area the hotel room was equipped with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, I know I said I would post sooner but work has been crazy and so has home life. My dad's epilepsy symptoms are getting increasingly worse, so we are trying to figure out who can be at home to watch him all the time. Other than that, I was struck with a bad bout of writer's block and couldn't figure out if this chapter was any good or not. So, this may be good or it may be crap. So let's hope it's the former. One last chapter in this story, and it's gonna be an epilogue! Yay! There might possibly be a series stemming from this, but I'm not positive that it will make it far. Thank you all for being patient. Love you all my lovelies! –S.A.M.

"It's just a cold. I'm fine." Yuuri was trying to convince the Russian man who was pulling him down a snowy street in Sochi, "I promise."

"Yurka," Viktor said in a warning tone. Yuuri huffed and continued to let his idol pull him through the snow. He didn't know where they were going; nothing looked familiar to Yuuri, but then again this was his first time in Russia. He could tell Viktor didn't believe a single thing he was saying.

Why he didn't was the mystery to Yuuri. He really was being truthful. It was just a cold and he was tired. But he was getting better over the past few days and soon he'd be back to his normal self once it stopped feeling like someone was taking a jack hammer to Yuuri's head.

They came to a stop at a traffic light where a few locals were standing waiting to cross and it was the first time Viktor let go of Yuuri's hand. Yuuri folded his arms across himself to keep his now empty hand warm. As thankful as he was to finally get his hand back, he was now without the heat from Viktor's hand to keep his fingers feeling like they were going to freeze off. He had wished he'd brought some gloves with him more than ever now.

"There's a place we can get warm and get something in you to help you feel better up ahead," Viktor mumbled to him.

"Huh?" Yuuri asked, but it flew into the wind as a soft breeze blew through the street and the light signal changed, letting them cross.

Viktor's normally long legs were carrying him faster than Yuuri could walk, especially with his paranoia of falling over on the slick pavement. The last thing he wanted was to fall into the rapidly forming snow drift on the Russian sidewalk. While skating on the ice was one thing, once you put black ice and Yuuri together, things didn't always go quite as they should. Still Yuuri couldn't help but notice how gracefully Viktor moved across the slick street, how he could still dance in between people walking in the opposite direction and how he managed to keep his stunning stride.

Viktor peaked over his shoulder as Yuuri tried to keep pace with him. He smiled softly and slowed his pace to match Yuuri's.

"Sorry. It should be just up ahead and to the right. Ah, yes. Here we are." Viktor pulled him into a tiny little shop that's sign was entirely in Russian.

"Where are we?" Yuuri shivered but felt a little better as warmth found his cheeks and nose in the small shop.

"A local drug store. They have some things that you won't find in the more touristy parts." He said as he strode over into the isles, pulling his hood down from his silky silver locks.

"Viktor, I have medicine back at the hotel—"

"Not the stuff that works quite like this. It's a little trick Yakov has for when one of us is sick." He crouched down by the shelves and looking at a few boxes and bottles of medicines, "Headache, fever, dizziness. Are you coughing?" As if in response, Yuuri gave a rough cough into his elbow.

Viktor gave him a soft worried smile, "I'll take that as a yes. Nauseous? Stomach cramps?"

"Viktor—" Yuuri started but was cut off by a glare from the Russian skater, "Yes and no."

Viktor nodded and grabbed a box of something off the shelf and looked at the smaller print closely, "Yurka, why don't you go pick out some throat lozenges." He pointed to the other end of the isle, before going back to reading labels.

"Viktor, really, I'm fine."

"Please Yuuri. Just get some. Your throat's sore. I can tell." Viktor didn't even look up at the Japanese man, but just kept looking at the bottle in his hands.

Yuuri blinked at him, but shuffled over to the bags at the other end and did his best to try to decipher the Russian letters. He picked up a bag of red lozenges and tried to make out the flavor of them, but with no success he held onto the bag. Whether they were cherry, strawberry or cinnamon flavored he didn't know.

He turned back to walk towards Viktor, when a flash of purple caught his eye. Turning back, he saw the one thing that had been the cause of stress and the reason for sweet relief for him for the past few days. He picked up the bottle of the cough syrup that was sitting on the shelf and held it in his hand; he was getting rather low on the bottle back at the hotel and if he planned on getting through the next few days in Sochi of press conferences and the plane ride back to Detroit, he knew he'd be needing more of it.

With his two items in hand, he made his way back to Viktor at the end of the isle. The Russian was now comparing two medicines to each other. Apparently, he decided they'd both be good since he kept hold of both as he stood and turned to Yuuri.

"Come on." He nodded his head towards a counter where a teenage girl was sitting and reading a Russian magazine. When Viktor set the objects down and then pulled Yuuri's lozenges and the other bottle out of his hands ("Viktor, I have money." "I've got it, Yurka. You pay me back later."), he started talking with the girl at the counter in rapid and fluent Russian. Yuuri could just watch in silent wonder at Viktor quick soothing voice speaking his 1st language. Yuuri had heard many other people speak Russian in the past week, but nobody could make it sound's foreign dictation quite as smooth and soft as Viktor. Even when speaking quickly, Viktor made the words dance as they rolled off his tongue.

"Тебе тоже нужны?*" the girl asked Viktor as she scanned the medicines Viktor had set down.

"Да. У вас есть суп или бульон?*"

"Это на острове 3.*" The girl said boredly. Yuuri could feel Viktor smile at her anyways before dashing away down another isle for a second and coming back moments later with a few cans of something.

"Soup." Viktor smiled at him before putting them on the counter as well. He pushed the lozenges and Yuuri's other medicine towards the clerk as he reached for his wallet. He pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the counter with a quick, "Сдачи не надо.*", before grabbing the bag and pulling Yuuri towards a small table by the window.

"I'm going to get us a cab really quick to take us back to the hotel."

"But, it's not that far, we can just walk," Yuuri mumbled.

Viktor put a hand on top of his head, "We're further than you think. It's not that far from the rink, but its far away from the hotel. And with that fever of yours, I don't think you should be walking out in the snow anymore." He ran his hand down over Yuuri's forehead and grimaced softly, before sitting Yuuri in a chair and dashing out into the snow to get a cab.

With a sigh, Yuuri sat. He was too tired to fight Viktor anymore, especially now that he knew he wouldn't necessarily win the argument. His head was pounding and he wanted to lie down and sleep, but he had to get back to the hotel first. He could stuff some Yen in Viktor's pocket in the cab as a thank you for all that he had done for him tonight. Hopefully, Viktor would somehow be able to exchange it for Russian currency somehow. He laid his head across his arms and watched out into the busy street where Viktor was trying to hail a taxi, the cool radiating from the glass and then heat from his body both feeling nice on his pale cheeks.

o.O.o

"Yurka," He felt someone run a hand through his hair softly as a soft voice drifted into his ear, "Yurka, I got us a cab. Come on." Yuuri wasn't really sure what was happening. He could recognize that familiar voice as he sleepily pushed himself to his feet. He didn't want to move from his comfortable position from where he had been dozing, but every time he had felt like he was going to fall back into the comfortability of the warmth of his arms, he was being pulled up from it.

He whined softly, " 'm tired."

"You can go back to sleep when we get back to the hotel, Yurka." That voice whispered soothingly to him once more as he was continually pushed forwards.

That was when the cold hit him like a brick and he shivered heavily, his eyes snapping open. Yuuri let out another quiet moan as he felt Viktor pushing him towards the cab that had it's door open, waiting for them.

"Here Yuuri." He felt something slide over his head and soon his face was covered in thick wool. It brought warmth once more, taking the bite of the chilly air for his cheeks as he was pushed into the back seat of the vehicle. He felt Viktor slide in next to him and heard the door slam shut as the wool started to warm his face.

"Хаятт Ридженси Сочи, пожалуйста. Как можно быстрее.*" Yuuri caught some of the Russian exchanged between Viktor and the driver, before he started drifting off again; he was starting to feel warm again and the soft earthy smells of designer cologne were seeping into his nose. Cabs in Russia, Yuuri thought, must smell amazing. Unlike the public transport at home in Japan or in Detroit. And then he started falling in and out once more.

o.O.o.

Viktor didn't quite know what to do with the bronze medalist sitting next to him. Yuuri Katsuki seemed to be getting sicker and sicker every time he looked at him. He was currently dozing on Viktor's shoulder as the cab was stalled at a red light, but he couldn't tell if Yuuri was conscious or not. He was sure Yuuri hadn't hit his head and he had seemed fine a few hours ago when they were at the banquet and then at the rink, but now he could see Yuuri's pale features and feel his gentle shivers. He pulled the soft knit hat from his head and slid it over Yuuri's ears, hoping that it would retain a little more of Yuuri's body heat until they could get into the warmth of the hotel.

Pulling up his hood to try to keep himself warm, Viktor let his mind wander as he looked around the streets of Sochi as they drove. If he had only thought to get a cab from the rink to the hotel and then run to grab medicine for Yuuri after he was settled, maybe he wouldn't be getting worse. He had been nervous about hailing a taxi from the giant ice rink. If someone spotted them though – the press would've had a field day and as much as Viktor didn't know Yuuri really well, he was sure the Japanese man wouldn't appreciate his picture all over the internet looking like he was going to keel over. Oh, Yura. He mumbled to himself, I just met you and already I've hurt you.

Viktor tried not to dwell on it too much, not wanting to think about his past really, at this point or ever. He tried doing what his counselor had told him; he'd moved on, there was nothing he could do, he just needed to press forward and think on the now. His focus was on Yuuri. He needed to help Yuuri. A warm feeling flowed through his chest; similar to the feeling alcohol gave after a couple shots. Yuuri Katsuki. He'd seen him before in passing, he'd remembered, when he was warming up for a senior competition, he'd see the boy perched in a corner somewhere, eyes bulging out of his head in anxiety before he was pushed out for his program for the Junior division. He hadn't known him back then, hadn't known that Yuuri was light hearted when not about to compete. He hadn't known how incredibly talented Yuuri was on the ice and that it was simply the anxiety of the moment that made him look like a simpering mouse – albeit a cute mouse. In fact, he had never even heard a single word come from Yuuri's mouth until tonight.

He wasn't sure what those feelings had been at the time for the brunette, but he had always wanted to know more about the boy with the dark hair and the cute glasses.

Viktor smiled softly when he saw the hotel come into view. The Hyatt Regency Sochi had been one of the top five star hotels in the area and Viktor had been ecstatic when he found out how good the hotel security was; hopefully he'd be able to enjoy his time in Sochi with minimal mobbing of fangirls and press alike. He loved his fans, he truly did, but at times it had been hard to go sight-seeing or go to the rink when he, along with the other members of the Russian team, were being cornered and chased by reporters. It was a bonus when he found out most of the skaters for the Grand Prix would also be staying there. He had been hoping to run into the boy who had taken two silvers at his qualifying competitions, making him just barely steal the opening for the Grand Prix. He had watched The Patin de Victoire Cup in Paris and The Cup of Seoul Cup late at night in his apartment after training. He had seen the boy who he had been curious about dance across the ice, nerves hindering some of his fluidity. He was truly hoping to be able to meet the Japanese skater in Sochi; see what he was like…end the fascination with him.

"здесь мы сэр." The cab driver's gruff Russian spoke from the front of the cab as he pulled to a stop in front of the Hayatt.

"Spasibo." Viktor tossed a few bills into the front seat and started trying to rouse Yuuri enough to move him inside. Yuuri whined soft and curled up to Viktor closer, but after a few more nudges, he was able to pull Yuuri from the cab and into the warmth of the hotel. He pulled his hood lower over himself and tried to walk as quick as he could towards the elevator before any of the reporters noticed something was amiss. Luck seemed to be on his side and thankfully was able to steer Yuuri back to the elevator without being stopped by the press, fans, hotel staff or possibly any coaches or skaters milling around. The banquet isn't over yet, though, he reminded himself.

"Yurka…" He shook the skater softly, "What floor are you on?"

"Nani?" Yuuri mumbled sleepily, "私は床で眠りたくない...暖かいことがない限り..."

"Yuuri, I don't speak Japanese. What floor are you—"

"Yuuri?" Viktor jumped as another voice drifted into the elevator. He looked up to see a small boy, probably about 15 or 16 sliding into the elevator beside them, "Is that Yuuri Katsuki?"

"Uh—" Viktor wasn't sure if he should say yes or no.

"James? Hey buddy…" Yuuri peeked and eye open to look at the red-headed boy before mumbling sleepily to himself in Japanese.

"Uhm, you don't look so good Yuuri. Are you—" James looked up to meet Viktor's eyes, "Y-You're Viktor—"

"Yes. I am. Do you know what floor he's on? I want to get him to his room so he can rest." Viktor mumbled and shut the elevator doors before anyone else could get on.

"Well, Celestino all has us booked on the 8th floor. He's in room 815, I think." The American boy spoke.

"Spasibo, uh—"

"Oh, I'm James Noble. I'm in the Junior division." The boy blushed and smiled at the older skater.

"Oh, that's good to here. I hope you do well when you make your senior debut." Viktor hummed and bounced softly in place as he help Yuuri up, "Yurka, I know your tired, but we just need to get to your room and then you can take some medicine to feel better and sleep."

Yuuri coughed roughly, "I need to take more of that cough medicine."

"I'll get you some of that too." To Viktor the trip to the 8th floor was painful. It was taking forever! But when the door binged and opened, Viktor hauled Yuuri out as gently and quickly.

"His room is at the end of the hall, I can help you get there," James called after him.

"We'll be alright. Thank you James!" He waved back at the younger teenager and drug the Japanese skater who was seemingly a little more conscious as he was being pulled along.

o.O.o

Yuuri was vaguely aware of being pushed down into a sitting position on a soft cushy surface as his eyes fluttered open. Something warm and heavy was covering his neck and cheeks; smelling faintly of designer perfume and soap. The smell was very nice, but he was feeling warm, too warm. Through his sleep-laden eyes, he could see a flash of silver hair as a tall man knelt in front of him.

"Viktor?" Yuuri mumbled in surprise. He had almost forgotten that the Russian skater was with him; he must've brought him back to the hotel.

The other man stopped where he was pulling bottles from a bag and came to crouch in front of Yuuri, "Hey, Yuuri. How're you feeling?"

He hummed softly and pulled at the scarf that had been wrapped around his face, "Hot."

He could see a soft smile linger on the other skater's lips as he reached up and helped Yuuri unravel the scarf before he brushed a hand across his warm face. Viktor's hands were soft and cool and Yuuri couldn't help by lean into their gentle touch as they caressed his cheek.

"Your fever seems to be getting worse. Hopefully the medicine I picked up will help bring it down some." Viktor hummed and grabbed a small bottle of pills that was lying on the table and pouring two blue tablets from the bottle, "Here, Yura. These should help with the fever and the aches." Yuuri hummed and took the two pills in his hand, popping them back before chasing them down with some water that Viktor had held out for him.

"And this should help with nausea and stomach cramps if you have any," Viktor held out another small pill for Yuuri, who popped it into his mouth and swallowed it down with some water.

Yuuri swayed slightly in place as he watched Viktor measure a thick purple liquid from another medicine bottle into a small measuring cap. He was very tired and he was hot – he just wanted to lay down with the covers off and a bunch of fans on.

"Last one, Yuuri. This should help with the coughing," Viktor touched his cheek to get his attention as he held out the cap filled with the thick liquid. Yuuri scrunched his nose softly in disgust, but took the cap of liquid and quickly tossed it back, gagging at the taste momentarily before swallowing heavily and downing a few gulps of water.

"Easy, Yura. You don't want to upset your stomach," Viktor almost cooed, "I noticed you picked up a sleeping aid. Do you want that to help you sleep?"

Yuuri frowned softly, "Uhm…"

Viktor raised an eyebrow softly and held out the very familiar bottle to the Japanese skater. Yuuri took the green bottle in his hands and felt his cheeks darken.

"Oh…"

He could hear the smile in Viktor's voice before the Russian skater chuckled softly, "What did you think that was Yura?"

Yuuri looked up at the silver-haired skater with a dark pink cheeks, "Cough medicine…"

Viktor's slender cool hands caressed his face once more and he leant into the soothing touch, "Oh Yura," He chuckled softly, "It doesn't help with coughing at all. It's got a lot of booze in it to help knock you out."

Yuuri blushed and ducked his head. So that's why he wasn't fully better and why he had lost his inhibitions while on the ice. He truly was drunk. It was amazing that he hadn't passed out mid-routine from exertion and from the effect of the drugs in his system. He wanted to bang his head against a wall out of the embarrassment of the situation and his own stupidity. I should've just put up with the coughing and not run to a store in Russia by myself where limited English was spoken.

Viktor's soft touch stayed on his cheek, his voice suddenly soft like he was speaking to a small child who was upset, "Yuuri? I'm sorry for laughing. It was just funny to me is all. Why don't you eat some soup and then you can get some rest? How's that sound? I can leave you alone if you want…"

"No!" Yuuri was surprised by the plea that left his lips as his eyes lifted to meet Viktor's sky blue ones, "C-Can you–?"

Viktor smiled, "Don't worry about it. You can change out of your training clothes while I heat up some soup." And with a brush through Yuuri's soft hair, Viktor pushed himself to his feet and slid over towards the small cooking area the hotel room was equipped with.

o.O.o

Viktor smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Yuuri slowly sip at the bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of him. It had been cliché, but between the small chicken bits, veggies and noodles the nutrition would help Yuuri recover faster, even if the sodium and carb levels were a little too high for the nutritional regimens that they were both on. Yuuri had changed out of the sweat pants and hoodie he had been wearing and had settled in with a pair of basketball shorts and a light t-shirt while Viktor had been supervising the microwave.

"How is it?" Viktor hummed, "You don't have to eat it all, but it's better that you don't take those meds on an empty stomach.

Yuuri hummed sleepily and watched him with those wide brown eyes that had captivated Viktor for years from a far, "It's very good Viktor. Thank you." He smiled as he watched the brunette take a few more spoonfuls of soup before setting the bowl down on the side table.

"You should rest, Yuuri." Viktor hummed and put his hand on Yuuri's knee softly, "I'm on the 9th floor, so I'll leave my number if you need anything, alright. Don't hesitate to text or call, okay?"

Something swam to the surface in the chocolate eyes that Viktor couldn't quite understand; sadness, longing, hurt? He wasn't sure but the look made him uneasy.

"Oh…okay…thank you, Viktor for your help." Viktor smiled and caressed Yuuri's cheek once more before standing up and stretching.

As he reluctantly turned to walk away, he heard a soft whimper and a small sniffle. He glanced in the dressing tables mirror as he paused on his way to the door. Yuuri had his head bowed softly and was wiping at his face with his face roughly from where he was laid.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I worried you and wasted your time and took you away from the banquet." Yuuri told him with grief dripping into his voice, "And now you're taking care of me. I'm sure you already have so much more you could be doing."

Viktor let off a sweet smiled and turned to face the boy in the bed, "I'm glad. I'm glad that I ran into you, I'm glad that you met me to skate, I'm glad you showed me how to fool around, I'm glad that you let me help you."

Yuuri blushed covered his face with one of his hands, "B-But–"

Viktor turned and settled once more on the bed next to Yuuri, "Not buts. Thank you for becoming my friend, Yura." He leaned over the boy and placed a small soft kiss to Yuuri's messy hair and smiled down at him.

Yuuri was blushing from the beginning of his roots to his neck as he pulled away. His eyes were even wider than they had been all night and Viktor was suddenly reminded of the small mouse that he had seen in passing over the past few years. He brushed his fingers across Yuuri's warm cheek once more; he seemed to really enjoy feeling Viktor's fingers gliding across his skin. Maybe the touch would help ease the anxiety that was rising in Yuuri, after all he didn't want the skater to get even more stressed and make his cold worse.

"Text me alright. Even if you don't need anything, Yura. Alright?" Viktor hummed. In content when the boy nodded softly, still speechless as he looked up at him.

Viktor stood to leave once more, but the slender fingers that wrapped around his wrist softly made him stop. He turned to face the sick boy with a gentle look.

"S-stay? Please?" Yuuri's eyes were looking moist, like he was on the verge of tears and the dam would break at any moment. Yuuri's blush reappeared on his cheeks and he let go of Viktor's sleeve and didn't meet the Russians eyes, "J-just forget that I said anything. I hope you sleep well tonight and that your coach isn't to upset with you and all –"

Viktor purred softly and pulled his hoodie off and slid off his shoes, before he climbed onto the bed to lay next to Yuuri, "This okay?"

"Uhm…" Yuuri mumbled with a blush and simply nodded, "Yes."

"Here." Viktor held out his hand for Yuuri who looked at it in question for a moment, "You seem to like me touching you, so you can play with my fingers if you want."

At first, Yuuri's blush was predominant, but eventually, he grabbed Viktor's hand in his own and held Viktor's fingers to his warm cheek, "Thank you Viktor. For everything."


	4. Epilogue

**\- 4 months later –**

Yuuri’s hands were shaking as he tried to fix his tie. If he was being forced into attending graduation, couldn’t he have at least worn something less…formal? And stuffy? He hadn’t even put on his cap and gown yet and already he felt like he was hot. Granted, the air conditioning in the dorm had suddenly decided to quit last week and now everyone was being forced to try to air out the heat by opening their windows, but still he was already starting to sweat in the dress shirt, tie and dress pants that Celestino’s wife, Maria, had forced him into. He didn’t really get why this was such a big deal, honestly. Yes, he had finished his undergrad. Yes, he had somehow managed to finish his degree while also being a full-time professional skater. But this wasn’t the end of his school career. He’d just be starting his Master's program in a year and would then endure more semesters, more homework, more papers, more internships.

He thought about immediately undoing the buttons on his shirt and swapping it out with a loose t-shirt (nobody would be able to tell the difference anyway since he would still be wearing dress pants), but then remembered that Maria would probably kill him if he actually showed up dressed like that. Then he’d have to listen to her nagging and be on the receiving end of her disappointed glare for the rest of the summer and into the fall until he flew home to Hatsetsu for a visit before the season got into full swing. He supposed that he could wear it for the duration of the graduation ceremony if that was the case.

He shook his head lightly and tightened the tie around his neck as he looked around the room. Phichit’s side was still covered in very Phichit like things. His hamster cage sat next to his bed, his orange and yellow comforter were messily strewn on top of his sheets, the figure skating posters hung on the wall next to Thai movie posters. The only thing out of place was his best friend, himself. At the beginning of the year, Phichit had arranged a trip back home for a few weeks in the middle of the Springtime, not thinking about the fact that Yuuri would be graduating that semester. As soon as he had found out, it had been too late and he’d been apologetic ever since.

Yuuri’s side of the room, on the other hand, was packed with boxes, some filled others still empty. Only a few of his things still remained in the room, but once graduation was over he’d have to finish packing and move his stuff to Celestino’s house until he could find an apartment to stay in. This room had been his home for the past few years and now it wouldn’t be. Phichit would have to live in the dorms for another few years before he graduated himself. They had both hated the dorms, but together it didn’t seem all that bad.

While he knew that things weren’t really changing, Yuuri still felt a little sentimental about the idea of finally being free from the dorms, when Phichit had to stay in them…with a new roommate too.

Life was somehow changing and yet not all at once for Yuuri Katsuki, and he wasn’t sure that he was ready for it.

It all started with the graduation ceremony that he didn’t even want to attend. He was already anxious and nervous about having to walk across the stage in front of easily a thousand people. He may have been one of the few skaters approved by the JSF and had placed bronze in the last Grand Prix, but he had been on the ice then and now he was on solid ground without the support from the skating community behind him all the way. The Grand Prix may have been a competition, but there was no mistaking the friendships that had been built behind the locker room door. 

It also helped that he wasn’t entirely sober for the GPF too.

o.O.o

Yuuri was sure that his vision had suddenly gotten worse within a few seconds. There was no way that  _he_  was actually here.

“Yuuri!” He rubbed his eyes a few times under his glasses and felt them grow wider as he looked at where he was supposed to be meeting Celestino and Maria (both of whom had already taken time off from the rink to come to the ceremony) after the ceremony was over. Standing there next to his coach stood someone he had never thought he would see until the Four Continents in another month; let alone here and now.

Viktor Nikiforov was just as stunning as he remembered him being, even if he was in a drug-induced haze the last time he had seen him. He wore a suit (which Yuuri guess was very expensive) and a pair of shiny brown dress shoes (which looked even more expensive). His hair was flowing slightly in the breeze making him look like the hero in a bad action movie, but where a Hero’s grimace usually stood, Viktor wore a big heart-shaped smile. 

“Yuuri! Yurachka!”, He blinked a few times before striding towards the group of people quickly.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked with surprise laced in his voice.

If Viktor’s smile could get any bigger, it did, “Congratulations, Yuuri!” And as soon as he was in range, Viktor’s arms were around him and he could feel the puff of air Viktor let out as he chuckled against his ear softly

“Viktor…” Yuuri repeated again as he stood in Viktor’s boa constrictor-like hug, “H-How?”

Viktor pulled back and looked at him, “I flew here.”

“I figured, but how…” Yuuri asked still dumbstruck.

Viktor gave a soft chuckle, “By plane of course.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, “You’re hopeless.”

Viktor’s laugh rang in between the two of them as they still stood rather close, “I talked to your Thai friend, Phichit? I think that’s his name. He said he found my number on your phone and wanted to surprise you. So I bought a plane ticket and here I am. Celestino and Maria offered me to stay with them for the two weeks that I’m here and have graciously allowed me to train at the rink they—“

“Wait! Hold on for a second,” Yuuri’s eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head from surprise, “Phichit brought you here?”

Viktor nodded, “Yes.”

“And you actually came?”

Celestino patted his shoulder, “Well, he seems pretty lifelike to me Yuuri.”

“And you’re staying here for…” he trailed off as he looked at the smiling Russian skater.

“Two weeks! That’s right, Yuuri.” Viktor reached out and booped Yuuri on the nose quickly before turning to Maria, “Thank you so much, Maria. I’m sorry to impose on your hospitality on such short notice.”

Maria flushed red and chuckling softly to herself, smiled at Viktor, “Anytime, honey.”

Yuuri was still reeling from the surprise appearance of Viktor. Had he really flown all the way from Russia to come to Yuuri’s silly college graduation? Had he really spent easily a grand on the trip and the expenses to come to Detroit? Had he really gone and taken off two weeks from his coach to come to the States just to see Yuuri? It was all very overwhelming to think of, but once Celestino and Maria had hugged him tightly and bid him congratulations, they headed off to their car to return to their students at the ice rink, he was left alone with the ever-chatty Viktor.

Viktor Nikiforov could talk for hours about nothing and everything all at once and not be bored by himself. Yuuri didn’t really mind when he would do this over their Skype calls or texts; he almost found it to be a bit adorable, but he would never tell Viktor that. They were simply friends. That’s all.

_Just. Really. Good. Friends._

At least, that’s what he had been telling himself. The last time he had been face to face with Viktor he had had a really bad cold and had deliriously asked Viktor to spend the night with him. Viktor had been very kind about it and hadn’t left until the early morning, waking Yuuri enough to say goodbye so he could catch his flight back to St. Petersburg. Yuuri had sleepily asked him to stay, but Viktor just ran his fingers over his forehead a few times before giving him an apology and a soft smile. 

When he got his first text from Viktor a couple days later, he couldn’t stop apologizing. That was until Viktor started ignoring Yuuri’s apologies entirely and forced him to talk about other things. They had never mentioned again the gentle brushes and the fact that they had spent the night next to each other the day they met in person. It had sounded so foreign to Yuuri when he had thought on it but when he thought about Viktor, it had seemed okay. He had been comfortable there in bed next to Viktor’s warmth and wrapped up in the soft smell of designer cologne.

Many times at night, he found himself longing for the presence of Viktor’s warm body next to his. 

“I’ve never been to Detroit, Yuuri,” Viktor said as he looked around at the buildings they were passing as they sat in the back of a taxi. Yuuri had been looking at him out of the corner of his eye and smiling to himself. He had always found Viktor to be cute. He had since he started puberty. But seeing Viktor like this, in real time and not putting on a show for cameras made him seem even cuter, as he let his true personality come out.

“Really? Where have you been in the States?” Yuuri asked softly as he turned to face Viktor head on, a blush decorating his cheeks.

“New York, Los Angeles, Chicago twice.” Viktor said as he too turned to smile at Yuuri, “And now Detroit. So, four places.”

“I’ve lived in Detroit for the past four years and I went to Chicago for the Skate America competition last year.”

Viktor’s eyes lit up, “I remember seeing you at Skate America last year.”

Yuuri blushed and looked down, “You do?”

“I never got to see your program that year in person, but I remember seeing you in the locker room when I was warming up.”

Yuuri’s blush went deeper, “Oh…” He had seen Yuuri in his panic mode. Viktor Nikiforov, his idol, his figure skating hero, had seen him in two of his worst moments; utterly sick and in the throes of a nervous breakdown.

Viktor didn’t seem to dwell on it though, “Can you show me your apartment?”

Yuuri blanched at the new topic of conversation, “Uhm…” 

“I’ve never seen a college apartment before. When I graduated secondary school, I started training more intensely. I never even thought about going to a university.”

Yuuri tilted his head a little, “Why not?”

Viktor shrugged, “I didn’t need it. I loved skating. I was good at it. I figured that the money I earned during my career would be enough to live a comfortable lifestyle until I retired and picked up skaters to coach. There wasn’t a need to.”

Yuuri nodded softly in understanding, “There’s no point in going if you have other dreams. College isn’t for everyone; at least that’s what Maria tells all of us.”

Viktor smiled, “So, I take it that you’ll show me your apartment.”

Yuuri blushed, “I dunno. My dorm room is messy right now. I’m in the middle of packing so I can move.”

“I’ll help you then. I’ll be here for two weeks, so we have plenty of time to rest later.”

“Uhm…” Viktor looked at him with, more or less, puppy dog eyes and Yuuri felt his worry die in his throat. There was no way he was going to win this, “Alright. But, you’ll probably be bored after a bit. It’s really not all that exciting.”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri. I doubt I’ll ever be bored when I’m with you.”

o.O.o

“This is…very small.” Viktor said with a soft frown as he peered into the room from the hallway. Yuuri had pushed him closer to the door as a group of freshman, came down the hall carrying boxes and looking tired. Yuuri couldn’t help but feel nervous as Viktor’s eyes drifted over the small room that had two beds, a dresser, two desks and a closet somehow shoved into it. Yuuri had always been a little amazed by the way the university had been able to fit that many things, plus students in the room at once. But somehow, he and Phichit had managed to pull it off for the past two years.

“You get used to it,” Yuuri said as he pushed into the room, tossing his graduation gown onto the small bed, before pulling at his tie to loosen it. 

Yuuri heard Viktor come into the room before the door to the room shut behind him with a soft click.

“How’d you survive in here? It's so small and…hot.” Yuuri turned to see Viktor still studying the small space, “And you don’t have a bathroom…”

Yuuri chuckled as he went over to the window and popped the lock on it to open it, “The only reason it’s hot right now is because the air conditioning went out. Normally its cold in here, especially in the winter. Also, we have a communal bathroom for the floor.”

“A c-communal bathroom?” Yuuri could see Viktor’s almost frightened face in the window, “Yuuri…” Suddenly Yuuri was wrapped up in two warm arms from behind and Viktor’s head was buried in his hair. He blushed profusely as he realized that Viktor was once more hugging him tightly, “Yuuri, how could I have let you stay here this long? A communal bathroom! What has America come to?”

Even if Viktor was being overly dramatic, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh, “It’s not like it’s the end of the world. I usually shower at the rink, but when there’s no other choice, you just shower during the off hours and find your favorite shower stall. You also just keep up after yourself.”

“It’s a good thing, I’m retiring this season. I can’t let you stay in this mess…” Viktor said as he stayed nestled in Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri almost laughed. Almost.

But then the reality of that statement hit.

“Wait, back up for a second, you’re retiring?” he said as he pulled away from Viktor’s arms and turned to face him with wide eyes.

Viktor nodded, making his silver bangs bounce slightly, “Da.”

“What do you mean your retiring? Are you injured or something?”

“No. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Then why’re you—“

Viktor’s face suddenly went stony for a moment, before he gave a soft smile to Yuuri, “Well, it’s time for me to take on a student. That’s why I came to bring you to Russia with me.”

Yuuri’s heart stopped. Viktor was retiring. Viktor had come to Yuuri’s graduation. Viktor had come to America. Just to bring him back to Russia with him. What did that mean?

“What?” he finally stuttered out.

Viktor’s smile faded a little as he put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, “You have passion Yuuri. You get lost in the music and relax on the ice. You’re talented; so talented that you can make it to the top. You just need to find some confidence. That’s all. You’re ready to take home the gold. So,” Viktor looked down for a second, but then looked up at him with a face set in a determined mask, “it’s time for me to step down. I’ve had a good run. Five World-championships. More than 10 other golds between Four Continents and Nationals. Plenty of silvers and a handful of bronze medals. It’s time for the Japanese Ace to rise to his true potential. So, I’m here to take you to Russia. I’m here to coach you Yuuri.”

Yuuri couldn’t believe his ears, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

Viktor gave him a look that was set between amusement and disappointment, “Starting today, I’m going to be your coach Yuuri. I’ll be co-coaching with you alongside Celestino until the end of the season, but then it’ll just be me and you.”

“But—“

Viktor suddenly smiled and put a hand atop Yuuri’s head, “I’ll give you time to decide if you want to come to Russia, but either way I want to help you reach the gold. I can’t just turn my back on my goal. How do you think I won five Grand-Prixes in a row. Now, where should we start with packing?”

Yuuri felt as if a crack had opened under him and he was now falling thousands of feet. Viktor had come from Russia to coach him. Viktor Nikiforov, five-time world-champion, a world-renowned figure skating legend and the best skater in the senior division had dropped training, dropped his career just to come and coach the figure skater that had tipsily made his way onto the podium. He’d suddenly decided that Yuuri was worth his next gold medal to coach. And he acted as if this was no big deal; like he just ended Yuuri’s childhood hero’s career every day.

“Y-you’re retiring?!” Yuuri asked again, desperation and exasperation both flooding his voice as he looked at Viktor who was now studying Phichit’s hamsters happily.

Viktor didn’t even look up at him, “Do you want me to help you fold clothes?”

o.O.o

After a few hours of awkwardly packing clothes and listening to Viktor ramble, Yuuri had pushed the Russian skater out the door and into a cab to be taken to a restaurant that he would be meeting with Celestino and Maria for dinner. Yuuri had been invited too but had used the excuse that he needed to call home and would meet them there later. Viktor had given him a little sad smile, but none the less told him he’d see him later before being driven into the sunset via taxi cab. 

As soon as the cab had rounded the corner, Yuuri let out a deep breath and looked around the busy street that ran in front of the residence hall.  _What had just happened?_  he thought as he ran a hand through his messy and sweaty hair before turning and heading back into the warm hallways of the hall. He was about to pass by the circulation desk in front when the girl behind the counter called out to him.

“You have a delivery.” She told him as he came closer, batting her long eyelashes. He recognized this girl, Katie, as the RA for his floor. From the rural country-side of Idaho, Katie was definitely a sore thumb in the Michigan population, let alone in the population of Detroit. She had seemed nice every time they had come in contact for the past three years, but Yuuri (as usual with everyone) tried to keep his distance from her. It wasn’t that she was weird or anything, but she was clingy when she saw him for some reason. She always wanted to hang off his arm when she saw him in the hallway or wanted to talk to him until his ears felt like they would fall off.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” He said as she passed over the clipboard that held the package pick up sheet. He wrote down his name in his best English writing, his room number, his student number and then signed it as she went into the small mailroom behind the counter. When she came out, she held a bouquet of flowers and a medium sized box in her arms.

“Hmmm. Have a secret admirer?” She asked as she handed over both the huge bouquet and the cardboard box, a tone of some emotion dripping from her voice that Yuuri couldn’t quite place.

“I don’t think so. Thanks though.” He said awkwardly as he shrugged before walking away from the desk, throwing a quick ‘See you later’ over his shoulder at the girl. Once he was in the safety of the elevator, he allowed himself to study the bouquet of flowers. The clear plastic around the stems didn’t take away the beauty of the dark red carnations, sweet pink peonies and pure white Lily of the Valleys’. He knew immediately who these were from and couldn’t help but tear up. 

His mother and father had probably spent hundreds of yen and had to overcome the language barrier to be able to send him flowers. He immediately knew the arrangement and the symbolism from his parent’s gift after living at the Onsen for his whole life. His mother had been obsessed with flowers since he was a baby and had since then helped her bring fresh flowers into the onsen in varying arrangements. Carnations for passion. Peonies for the promise of good fortune, respect, and nobility. Lily of the Valleys’ for the promise of happiness. These were here to show their love for him, to show him how proud they were of him, and most of all to wish him good luck. Still, he plucked the card from between a peony and a carnation.

The Japanese characters on the card did not help his teary eyes. He often didn’t become homesick anymore, but thinking of his parents and Mari had suddenly made him want to hop on the first flight to Fukuoka. He slid the note into his pocket and took in the smell of his flowers as the door of the elevator dinged opened on his floor, two students waiting to get on, suitcases and boxes in their arms. He stepped out quickly and headed back to his room. The smell alone of the sweet peonies and the fresh carnations had cured his homesickness a little bit. He remembered watching his mother tend to the flowers in her small garden beside one of the hot springs when he was still in elementary school. She would always smile and beckon him over when she felt his eyes on her, telling him to sit next to her while she weeded. When was the last time he had done that? At least four years ago, but it had been a while since he had left for the US even. Why had he stopped doing that? 

Shutting the door behind him, he sat down on the edge of his now stripped mattress. He hadn’t looked to see who the box was still from. The card hadn’t mentioned anything about a box, but maybe his parents had sent him something else? He didn’t want to set the flowers down now that they were in his arms. They were the reminder of home, the promise of love and safety and he didn’t want to let them go even more now that his head was whirling with the day’s events.

Shifting the bouquet into the crook of his arms, Yuuri reached for the box next to him and pulled the tape off the sides so he could look inside. A wreath of deep burgundy roses sat in the cardboard, petals perfectly crisp as they had been braided into a crown. A crown similar to the one that those who made the podium would often be given. Sitting in the center of the crown, there was a small folded note with his name written in loopy scrawl.

 

_Yuuri,_

_Congratulations on your graduation. I can’t wait to see your unconscious beauty change the world._

_\- Viktor_

 

He looked at the note for a moment and then let it fall to the floor as he set the bouquet from his parents down momentarily. He had worn a flower crown before; his mother uses to weave some together for him and Mari when they were little. He had also had one shoved on his head when they had placed the bronze medal around his neck (not that he had remembered it).

But this flower crown was different. It wasn’t the crown of tender platonic love like the ones his mother had made. It wasn’t the sign of victory among champions like the ones worn on the podium.

It was a promise of what was to come.

Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from lifting the flower crown from the box and looking at it in his hands. It was utterly beautiful. He knew his mother would’ve gushed over the beauty of the roses if she had seen it _. I can’t wait to see your unconscious beauty change the world._ That’s what Viktor had written.

Maybe that change would be at the top of the podium where he would be fitted with a wreath of flowers that he had won, that he had deserved. And Viktor would be standing next to him.

Or perhaps it would be changed in a small, ordinary way.

He couldn’t help himself from bringing the crown over his head and carefully setting it on top of his unruly hair. He was sure he probably looked ridiculous; a 23-year-old man sitting on his unmade bed, odd colored dress pants covering his lower half while his soft blue dress shirt had been unbuttoned and was hanging loosely around his shoulders to reveal a light cotton white t-shirt underneath. His shoes were scuffed lightly around the edges though he looked rather uncomfortable in them. And there sitting atop his head, a stunningly beautiful crown of burgundy roses. The image was probably hilarious to the outside world, but the light weight of it had instilled something in Yuuri that he hadn’t felt before.

Not pride, not lust or fame or fortune, not passion. 

It had instilled a sort of love. It was a will of self-love; of the goal to make Viktor proud.

The need to make his family proud. 

The want to make himself proud.

 

**\- See You Next Level! –**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s over. All over. And I dunno what to do now. Yes, this fic was only four chapters, however, this is the first multi-chaptered fic I have done since my year and a half hiatus. And now…it's time to move on. And I dunno how I feel about it now. If some of my flower interpretations were wrong, I’m sorry. I researched that content for like two hours in the middle of an insomniac episode and well, I stopped taking notes after about half an hour. I hope you lovelies all liked this as much as I did writing it. Special thanks to Shiranai Atsune who requested this. I never thought that it would turn out like this; I hope I did your vision justice. I can’t wait to share what I have up my sleeve next with all of you and I hope you aren’t disappointed. As always, I hope you have an awesome day lovelies. I love you all. –Sam


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